


A Death of a Bachelor

by MaddieFrickenClark



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Because they deserved happiness, Cuddles, I hope everyone enjoys, I make my own canon, I write happy things, I'm still bitter that they didn't chop off Tom's arm in the show, M/M, Maddie is the drunk bff, Sexy Times, all I write is AU, and to get married, and to get to be husbands, because the show is sad, from credit card fraud to marriage, healthy relationship between two people who love each other, love is love, no zombies, snuggles, soft gay business boyfriends, they're beautiful and deserve better, who drunk texts and saves Strand cigarettes, zombie free au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 21:13:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10727361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieFrickenClark/pseuds/MaddieFrickenClark
Summary: 'That was love, Victor decided. When someone, albeit drunkenly, kissed you in a hotel bar, and you kissed them back.'--It's been twelve years since Victor Strand first gave Thomas Abigail thirty-six thousand reasons to say no, but now, times have changed, and there are well over thirty-six thousand reasons why he should say yes.





	A Death of a Bachelor

‘The death of a bachelor  
Oh  
Letting the water fall  
The death of a bachelor  
Oh  
Seems so fitting for  
Happily ever after  
How could I ask for more?’

NEW YORK CITY, 2017

Victor had never been the marriage type. Something about it, the frivolity, the fact that it was mostly for show, deterred him. All of the ‘happy’ couples, gushing about their overwhelming love, spending obscene amounts of money on a wedding that would be over within a day. 

He'd never believed in it, either. In the fact that a piece of paper with a couple of signatures was the only real way that you could show that you loved someone. That marriage actually meant something. 

Maybe that's why what he was planning on doing later that day was so bizarre, so unexpected, so unlike him. He was a closer, constantly sealing deals, putting forward investments, but what he was going to do wasn't so different from all of that. It may not have been a property deal, but it was a deal nonetheless. 

He was the son of a preacher, and having grown up surrounded by religion, intoxicated by the church’s way, he’d strayed as far as possible from tradition. He'd never believed in any of it, a self proclaimed atheist, and he'd fled from that life as soon as he could. Victor had an education, terrific skills in the art of manipulation, and a way with words. Soon enough it became evident that that was all he needed to work his way up in the world. Well that, and maybe something as pathetic and cliched as love. 

Love came in the form of many things, but for Victor Strand, it came all packaged up in a designer suit. He'd never believed in love at first sight, but that was before he'd set eyes on Thomas Abigail. A businessman, just like himself, born in Scotland, yet raised on his father’s estate in Mexico. He was a well presented, well educated, real estate investor, who was too rich for his own good. 

Swiping someone's credit cards wasn't usually the start of a conventional romance, but then again, they were anything but conventional. Victor had given the other man thirty-six thousand reasons why they shouldn't. Thomas had obviously seen well over thirty-six thousand reasons why they should.

It had started as a business arrangement, what Thomas had described as an ‘obligation’, and before long they'd ended up naked, in a hotel room bed. It was supposed to be a strictly professional agreement, but they'd worked together better than they'd anticipated, almost doubled Thomas’ fortune, and with every deal that they closed, more feelings unearthed. 

Thomas had made the first move. Victor still remembered it, clear as day, despite the fact that over ten years had passed. They'd just closed a deal, and, like usual, had gone to a hotel bar to celebrate. After a few too many drinks, and before Victor even realised it, the other man had begun kissing him. His lips were soft, like he applied copious amounts of Chapstick regularly, and he tasted like one too many glasses of Scotch.

That was love, Victor decided. When someone, albeit drunkenly, kissed you in a hotel bar, and you kissed them back. It wasn't like he'd never thought about it before. Hell, he'd undressed Thomas with his eyes a million times before he ever got the opportunity to do it for real. He'd fallen for him at the bar where they had first met, and over time the attraction had just grown. He'd never acted on his feelings, of course, he was still in debt to the other man, and he has absolutely no idea whether he swung that way. He was still grateful that Thomas had kissed him first. 

They'd retreated to Victor’s hotel room, undressed, and slowly discovered each and every inch of each other for the very first time. Sure, he'd had a string of lovers, but none of them had ever made him feel the way Thomas had that night. The way that his body had spasmed in ecstasy due to something as simple as the other man’s touch. The fact that there had been no awkwardness, no shame. The way that he'd never wanted to pull out, once he was inside. 

Amazing had to be an understatement. Despite the vast quantities of alcohol that they had poured into themselves that night their ‘abilities’ had been anything but hindered. There had been no clumsiness, just the sharp thrusting of bare bodies, and the feeling of Thomas’ mouth, the tip of his tongue, running over Victor’s chest. He remembered the sound of Thomas’ moans, and the fact that his name had never sounded as smooth and sensual as it had when it had rolled off of the other man’s tongue.

That, in addition to a million more of those nights, had lead Victor to where he was now. The man who swore to never marry was about to propose to his business partner turned lover, in the same hotel bar where their lips and bodies had first come into contact. He had fallen in love, head over heels for Thomas Abigail, and if a piece of paper with some signatures on it was what he needed to prove it to the rest of the world, then so be it.

“Babe, Victor,” Thomas waved one of his hands in front of his partner’s face, immediately extinguishing his thoughts and regaining his attention. “Can we go into the restaurant, it's freezing out here, and my coat isn't as thick as it looks.”

Victor found himself smiling as he reached out and took one of Thomas’ hands into his. “Damn, your hands are cold.”

“Shut up, you're the reason we’ve been standing out here like idiots for the last five minutes. What were you doing? Daydreaming?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Think less, act more.”

“We all know that my brain is the reason why you love me.”

“Liar, you know I'm just here for your arse.”

“I'm not denying it, my ass is pretty goddamn fine, but, at the end of the day, it's my intellect that gets your pants down.”

Thomas squeezed his boyfriend’s hand and tilted his head, “you know you're an idiot, Victor Strand.”

“I love you too, Thomas Abigail.”

“I wasn't trying to be nice, I'm actually freezing and pretty damn pissed.”

Victor grinned, “keep telling yourself that.” A quick peck on the cheek, “let’s go inside, I made a reservation.”

\----

“This is that place!” Thomas declared rather adamantly as he sat himself down at a table for two, across from the other man. An attractive young waitress had lead the pair to their table before she returned with a pair of menus, and poured them each a glass of water. The shorter man tapped his fingers against the tabletop as he straightened out his thoughts. An eyebrow raised, “This is the place where we shared a few firsts.”

“You remember!”

“Of course I do. I can be a bit scatterbrained but I'll never forget the most spontaneous thing that I've ever done.” The taste of the man’s lips was permanently ingrained in the back of his mind, he would always remember that night.

“Could I interest you both in a glass of anything? Some white? Maybe some red?”

“I'd love a glass of merlot but he's utterly disgraceful when it comes to handling his alcohol so maybe get him a glass of water.”

A sharp kick under the table was followed by a small laugh from the both them.

“Ignore him, he's got a superiority complex.” Thomas resisted the urge to kiss his partner and shook his head. “Bring us a bottle of your finest merlot.”

“Sure thing,” the waitress beamed. “I'll be back with some glasses, and in the meantime I suggest that you start looking through your menus.”

“Menu time,” Thomas smiled as he pushed his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose and gently flipped open the black book. “I'm thinking the fettuccine beef ragu, do you like the sound of it?”

He pointed out to the item on his boyfriend's menu and glanced inquisitively. Victor would never admit it, but he thought his partner looked amazing when he wore his glasses. They were chic and sleek with rectangular grey frames that gave him this polished and refined look. “I think the pasta sounds marvellous, but you have to let me try some.”

“Of course, babe, but that means I get the same privileges when it comes to whatever you order.” Thomas paused and ran some fingers through his neatly trimmed brown hair. “Have you chosen anything?” 

“I'm thinking of going with the Filet Mignon sided with the truffle roasted potatoes and the sautéed asparagus.”

“Of course you are,” his Scottish accent was thick as he rolled his eyes. “But that sounds lovely, very decadent.”

“Decadence is my middle name.”

Thomas grimaced, ready to make some sarcastic remark, but the return of the waitress caught him off guard. “Have you two decided?”

“I'm getting the Filet Mignon and he'd like the fettuccine ragu.”

“Wonderful choices,” the woman nodded. “And can I get you any starters?”

“Maybe some oysters, Victor?”

Strand nodded, “and could you bring us a trio of dips as well?”

\----

As much as he'd love to just sit and flirt the entire night, Victor knew he had to get the ball rolling on his plan. He could feel the ring box in the pocket of his blazer and he knew if we waited too long he might change his mind. He couldn't change his mind. He wouldn't change his mind.

He'd gotten the idea from Alicia, who was his best friend’s daughter, and her two friends and step brother. Initially, he'd consulted Madison, Alicia’s mom, but soon learned that an immensely unstable, self confessed sociopath, who suffered from alcoholism, wasn't the most effective source. Alicia, however, with the help of her step brother, Chris, and two friends, Tori and Ofelia, had helped him develop an amazing plan.

He quickly lied that he needed to use the men’s room and slipped away from the table. He wasn't entirely sure what he needed to do but according to the results of a few rushed google searches he was supposed to talk to a staff member.

There she was. He hurried toward the waitress who had taken their order and brought their drinks.

“Hello, I'm Victor, and you took my order.”

“Yeah, did I get something wrong, I haven't been working here very long. If I have stuffed up, please don't tell my boss, she'll kill me.”

Strand shook his head. “No, you were amazing, I just need to ask you a question.”

“Yeah, ask away.”

“So I was planning on...you know...asking the man I was sitting with to marry me and I was wondering if you could arrange to have the words ‘Marry me, Tom?’ or something piped onto a dessert plate.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “that's the most romantic thing I've heard all year. Of course I can! I'll have to go talk to the guy in charge of desserts but I think it'll be easy.” She paused, “just checking which table it was again.”

She was ever so scatty, but the fact that she was so sweet meant that it didn't really matter. “That one over by the window,” Strand pointed to Thomas. “He's the attractive male in the Armani suit.”

“Okay, that's what I thought.” She throws her arms open and hugs a slightly taken aback Strand. “Good luck, I'm sure he'll say yes.”

\----

“That was one very long trip to the restrooms, babe. Are you all okay?” Thomas’ nose was creased in concern.

You're too observant for your own good, Strand thought to himself as he sat back down. “Yes, I'm fine, I just needed to take a call for business.”

“Who was it? Mrs Johnson? Because I quite frankly am not interested in dealing with that bitch.”

Victor chuckled. “No, it was just Mr Parker checking the meeting for Wednesday is still on.”

“At least he's better than her.” Thomas motioned to the middle of the table, “and the oysters have arrived but I've been waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Victor smiled and stroked the other man's thigh beneath the tabletop. “These look amazing.”

\----

Before long, the pair had finished both their entree and mains and the waitress that cleared their plates away. 

“So would you two like anything for dessert?”

Victor shook his head while Thomas shrugged. “I'd love a coffee, thank you. Maybe a short black?”

“Great, I'll bring it right out.”

Once she was gone, Thomas turned to his partner, and peered at him curiously. “I've known you for twelve years and never once have I ever seen you turn down a cigar, overpriced Scotch, my sexual advances, and most importantly, a coffee. What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I just don't feel like one.” 

It wasn't really that though, it was more the fact that he was so nervous he didn't feel that he could actually stomach a hot, frothy, drink. 

“Okay, fine, but if you change your mind I'm not sharing.”

He peered across at Thomas. He looked so peaceful, his glasses still on, his cleanly shaven face, his iPhone that he was clutching tightly in his hands. He was dressed in one of Victor’s suits, a Giorgio Armani one that had costed a fair bit, but he wasn't complaining. That was one of the perks of having a male partner. You could share outfits. He was wearing one of Tom’s suits at that moment. He smiled. It was that moment that he also remembered that he was wearing his lover’s Calvin Kleins. 

“Why do you have such an idiotic smile on your face?”

“Nothing, I just remembered something.”

“I like it when you smile like that.” Both their arms were resting atop the tabletop and Thomas reached out and let his fingers interlock with his boyfriend's. “You don't smile enough.”

“You can't expect me to be smiling all the time when I have someone like you constantly nagging me.”

“Go away.”

“Excuse me?” Their banter was interrupted by the waitress. She was smiling a little too widely and for a second Victor honestly feared that she might drop the plate. “I have the cheesecake the two of your ordered.”

“But we didn't order anything…”

Thomas trailed off once he noticed the plate. Alongside a raspberry cheesecake, his favourite flavour at that, were three words. In large, curvy cursive chocolate font were the words ‘Marry me, Tom?” It was a proposal. Someone, the love of his life, had just asked him to marry him, and he was lost for words.

“Tom, I know that I've always said that I don't believe in marriage and all of the frivolous shit that we associate with weddings but that was before I met you. I love you Thomas Abigail, just as much as I did when we were last in this restaurant, just as much as when I first gave you thirty-six thousand reasons to say no, and I can't think of anything I want more than to get to call you my husband.” Victor paused, his heart beating rapidly as he ignored the rest of the restaurant patrons who seemed pretty caught up in the moment, and looked Thomas in the eyes. 

Thomas peered across the table at Victor who had removed a small box from the pocket of his blazer, which he had opened to reveal a simple gold band. An engagement ring. He could feel his heartbeat all the way down to the tips of his fingers and he fought hard, but ultimately failed, in preventing his eyes from welling with tears. He'd always been the emotional sort, and now was absolutely no different.

“Thomas Abigail, will you make me the happiest man in this world, and marry me?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out, so he just leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other man's. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. The rest of the world fell away as they fell into each other. Victor's tongue slipped into the other man's mouth whilst Thomas’ hands gently cupped his partner’s, his fiancé’s, cheeks.

They pulled their mouths apart, although their noses were still touching, and smiled softly. 

“Yes,” Thomas whispered. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

They weren't entirely sure when the cheering had started, because it could have been during the kiss, but they were only just noticing it now. Victor peered at the sea of smiling faces around the restaurant. That was people for you, they got all excited in a group setting, cheered and clapped, when they personally couldn't care less about the fact that you have just proposed. He didn't mind, though, Thomas had said yes, and that was all that actually mattered. 

“Can I have the ring babe, or was it just for decoration?”

Victor grinned and nodded as he took one of Tom’s hands into his own and slipped the ring onto his finger. It was real, he'd actually done it, and it had worked. For someone who was usually very sure of himself, Victor had been unusually anxious. 

Thomas examined his hand and smiled softly. “Now this,” he motioned to his finger, “is going on Facebook.” He unlocked his phone and tapped on the small, blue icon, “and we really have to update our status. ‘Engaged to Victor Strand’ has a nice ring to it, right?”

“Definitely,” he replied as he proceeded in doing the same on his own account. He had never been one for Facebook statuses, but if that's what Thomas wanted, that's what he'd do.

A gentle buzz sounded, and he peered at the screen. A message flashed across it:

‘Victor, hey, have you done it? Is Tom gonna marry your fuckin ugly ass?’

The man smiled and tapped out a response.

‘How many have you had to drink? And yes, he said yes.’

‘Only 1 and a bit...bottles...stfu Victor...you're mean. Have you had any drinks?’

‘Just shared a bottle with the future Mr Strand…’

‘You need more than a bottle to believe he'd take your name. I'll save a cigarette 4 you.’

‘Tom hates smoking…’

‘He's boring!’

A picture of Madison, a cigarette between her bright red lips, whizzed onto the screen. Victor smiled and shook his head. He loved the woman completely and entirely. She was the female version of him, she understood him in ways even Thomas couldn't, and they were each other's best friends. 

‘Sexy.’

‘Save some of that sweet talking for the man you're gonna marry. And am I gonna have a role in this wedding?’

‘How about best man? Shake up the gender roles?’

‘Hell yes. I fuckin love you Victor. I'm gonna have to wear a suit.’

‘I’m sure you'll look a million $, gtg, Tom is giving me dirty look.’

‘Good luck with that, spoil him tonite, *eggplant emoji*’

‘Will do. Don't drink too much.’

‘Fuck off! *Rude finger emoji*’

“Babe, I love you, and I'm ecstatic that you want me to be your husband but can you get off that goddamn phone for long enough to actually look me in the eyes.” A thick Scottish accent caught Victor’s attention and the man proceeded in placing his iPhone down on the tabletop.

“Sorry, it was just Madison, being Madison.” Victor replied as he took Thomas’ hand in one of his own, and stroked his thigh with the other. They tended to do that, touch each other's thighs under the table, no matter where they were. At restaurants, on business, even when they were sitting around at home reading the paper. There was just something about it, about Thomas’ touch, that he adored. It wasn't sexual, it was just the pure closeness, the attraction, that they shared. 

“She wants a role in the wedding, doesn't she?”

“My best man is going to be a blonde, alcoholic, woman.”

Thomas grinned, “I could have guessed.”

“Well aren't you smart.”

Another smile. “It takes one to know one.” He paused, “you want to get the bill? I was hoping we could get some privacy.”

“I like your thinking, Thomas Abigail.”

The other man beamed but before he could reply his partner's mouth obscured any potential words. 

\----

After a short elevator ride, in which they could barely keep their hands off of each other, both the men couldn't be more excited to finally make it back to the hotel room. 

“You couldn't wait to get me back here, could you?” Thomas murmured as he shrugged off his blazer and tossed it onto an armchair, leaving his designer Yves Saint Laurent shirt exposed.

Victor grinned, his lips against his neck. “I was honestly too worried about you saying no to actually think about this.”

The other man shook his head, his fingers working to unbutton his partner's shirt. He pressed his lips against the almost black flesh of his chest, “Why would you worry? As if I'd even think to say no.”

Strand mirrored his partner’s actions and discarded the shirt. His fingers skirted down his chest, brushing gently at his chest hairs, before they began undoing his zipper. He pulled the trousers down and stroked at the solid bulge in his boxers. “Most relationships don't start with credit card fraud.”

Thomas moaned, before he released a chuckle. He hooked his thumb beneath the elastic of his fiancé’s briefs, tugged them down, and cupped his stiff erection. “Most couples aren't us.”

Victor nodded, his face nestled into his partner’s back, before he slipped into him, and listened as the man let out another gentle moan. 

This was love, Victor decided, and it was. 

\----

He awoke the next morning to find Thomas already awake. He was completely naked aside from a sheet that partially obscured his partner’s view, and he looked entirely invested in a book.

“You're awake,” he placed his glasses down on the nightstand. “It took you long enough, I honestly thought that I'd have to wake up.”

“How long have you been up?” Victor asked groggily as he stretched his arms and sat up so that he could steal a somewhat sleepy kiss. 

“Not long,” a second kiss. “I just wanted to keep reading my novel.”

“Is it good?”

“I'm definitely enjoying it so far.” He paused and wrapped an arm around his fiancé, the scent of his cologne wafted up his nostrils. “You booked the room. I only realised this morning, I was sitting here, and then it clicked. It's the exact room, the one where I first saw you in your naked finery.”

“I thought it'd be fitting. We could see how much we've changed in ten years.”

“It's all been for the better. Our business is booming, we have amazing friends and family, and the two of us, we've only grown closer.”

“This is going to be amazing. This, the wedding, everything.” he replied as he grabbed his partner's hand. “I can't wait to get to call you my husband.”

Thomas squeezed the other man’s hand, obvious excitement rippled between them. “I can't wait either.”

“I love you Tom.”

“I'll love you, always, Victor.”

‘A lifetime of laughter  
At the expense of the death of a bachelor’


End file.
